Save Me
by Trunks on Toast
Summary: Goku/Vegeta. A/U. An interesting encounter in the boy's bathroom brings 2 strangers together in an unexpected way.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything here. Not a thing. Well . . . except maybe a few words here and there. And some strawberries . . . wow, those were some GOOD strawberries . . .  
  
A/N: Yet another Goku/Veggie fic! Whoo! They're kinda OOC at the beginning (especially Goku) but hopefully they'll get more IC as the story goes along. Trunks makes a cameo appearance cause he rules, and I HAD to have him in here. He actually adds to the whole "plot development" thing! w00t!  
  
Since it's an AU fic, here are some things to keep in mind  
  
Ages:  
  
Goku- 20  
  
Trunks- 18  
  
Vegeta- 18  
  
- Goku and Gohan are brothers  
  
- Vegeta is in high school, but Goku has already graduated and lives on his own  
  
Warning: There's no sex or anything (the world would most certainly erupt into chaos if I attempted a lemon), but this does contain shounen-ai. If you don't like that, don't read this.  
  
That being said, I hope you enjoy!  
  
  
  
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The cemetery was still dark when a young man walked down its dirt path, carrying a small bouquet of white flowers. The soft padding of his dark shoes upon the soft ground was the only sound that even his keen sense of hearing could pick up. His somber black suit greatly contrasted his wild, almost playful spikes of hair that were in a constant state of disarray . . . even for such an occasion as this.  
  
Soon a familiar large tree came into view, its branches giving the illusion of reaching out in a protective manner over several headstones – much like a mother watching over her children. During the day its abundant leaves provided shade, but at 5 in the morning it just added to the tranquil scenery.  
  
He approached one of the headstones and kneeled on the cold grass to lay the flowers down. The young man remained in that position as he stared blankly at the pale grey slab of granite before him. All his emotions could be seen in his obsidian eyes, which were hidden behind black reflective sunglasses.  
  
A single tear made its way out from under the lenses, sliding down his cheek leaving a trail of wetness behind it. He made no move to wipe it away . . . indeed, he didn't move at all. The one tear was followed by another, and then another. Suddenly a choked sob broke the silence, as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the smooth rock.  
  
"I'm sorry," he managed to gasp out between deep shuddering breaths. "I'm s-so sorry . . . It wasn't supposed to end that way . . . " 


	2. Preperations

Disclaimer: Uhm…yes  
  
A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short!!! The next one will be MUCH longer, I promise!  
  
  
  
* Thought *  
  
  
  
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Exactly 1 year ago…  
  
Several clicks of a semi-automatic machine gun resounded through the sparsely furnished apartment. Goku looked down at the weapon, satisfied that it wouldn't accidentally go off, and placed it carefully inside an inconspicuous blue duffel bag. After making sure he had spare ammunition, he zipped the bag closed and flung it over his shoulder, turning to observe himself in the full-length mirror attached to the bedroom door.  
  
With his dark denim jeans and slightly rumpled black t-shirt, he looked like any other college-age student. The duffel bag merely added to his generic facade, instead of making him stand out. The normalness of his appearance made him slightly uneasy, and he quickly reached out to open the door.  
  
He made his way into the kitchen to grab some food before he left, but decided against it. With the state his stomach was in, he doubted that anything would stay down.  
  
* This is it . . . no turning back. If I don't do this now, I'll never be able to do it *  
  
Snatching a pair of mirrored black sunglasses from the table, he slipped them in his back pocket and made his way to the front door. Halfway there, a framed photograph on the wall caught his eye. He paused as if thinking something over, and reached up to take it off the wall.  
  
A small smile touched his lips as he looked at the two boys in the picture. His thumb gently swept over the smooth glass, brushing over the face of a teenager about 12 or 13. He had an 18-year-old Goku in a headlock, and both were laughing so hard that their eyes were squeezed tightly shut.  
  
"Gohan . . ."  
  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clutching the picture tightly. When he opened them, his midnight black orbs were set with a firm resolve.  
  
"Little bro, this is for you. Hopefully some day you'll understand why I'm doing this . . . and forgive me." 


	3. Jumper

Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ (but you already knew that) or the song  
  
A/N: A longer chapter, just as I promised. I thought I'd randomly throw in a songfic while I was at it…it's to Jumper by 3rd Eye Blind. *laughs* I know, it's pretty confusing right now…but eventually I'll get to the part where Vegeta and Goku have the big "talk" scene and all will be revealed. (I hope) Now go forth and be…uh, a happy fanfic-reading-person!  
  
Oh wait!  
  
Note:  
  
[Lyrics]  
  
  
  
Ok, NOW you can go!  
  
  
  
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[I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend]  
  
A very similar click echoed in the boy's bathroom of Orange Star High school, but this time it was of a simple hand pistol. The hands that held it shook visibly, as the owner cursed under his breath. He placed the gun on the sink and ran his hand through his unruly hair, studying himself in the grimy mirror.  
  
An angry boy stared back at him, his severe but handsome face distorted with a permanent scowl. His glossy black hair reached skyward in tall spikes, perfectly setting off his sharply defined cheeks and nose. His features were aristocratic, and would have been beautiful if not for the coldness in his penetrating black eyes.  
  
[You could cut ties with all the lies  
  
That you've been living in]  
  
Pain and hurt briefly flashed in those eyes, but they were soon replaced with disgust as his scowl deepened.  
  
* Weakling . . . * his own thoughts taunted him.  
  
* You sniveling little pansy . . . can't take it, huh Vegeta? So this is what you've become . . . what you've let them make you into. You're better off dead. *  
  
[And if you do not want to see me again  
  
I would understand]  
  
He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it into the sink, ignoring the burst of pain upon impact.  
  
* Shut up . . . *  
  
[I would understand]  
  
Slam!  
  
* Shut up shut up SHUT UP! *  
  
His hand was now bruised and bleeding, but the scornful voice was silenced for the moment. Wiping the blood off on his worn and faded black jeans, he placed his undamaged hand on the gun, curling his fingers around it. It was cold on his heated skin . . . completely impersonal, not caring in the least what Vegeta was about to do.  
  
[The angry boy, a bit too insane  
  
Icing over a secret pain  
  
You know you don't belong]  
  
He slowly lifted it up to his head and pressed it to his temple, the coolness transferring to his head. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the shot.  
  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, a tall stranger toting a blue duffel bag stepped onto the empty campus. He checked his watch, confirming that everyone would be in class for the next 5 minutes or so. Goku scanned the area to make sure that no one would see him, and proceeded to place the bag on the floor and unzip it.  
  
[You're the first to fight  
  
You're way to loud  
  
You're the flash of light on a burial shroud]  
  
He extracted the semi-automatic and tucked it under his right arm, using the other hand to close the bag and sling it back on his shoulder. Looking around once more, he headed over to the two buildings nearest him, and slipped into the narrow alley between them.  
  
Suddenly remember his sunglasses, he reached into the back pocket and retrieved them. He slipped them on and waited, 2 minutes stretching in front of him as if they were 2 hours.  
  
[I know something's wrong]  
  
The lunch bell rang, and hundreds of talking, laughing, and shouting students poured out of the building, eager for this short break from their studies. Suddenly a gunshot rang out and a girl screamed, but the noises went unnoticed in the general hubbub. However, more and more screams followed, and within a few minutes, shouts of excitements turned into ones of terror.  
  
Mobs of kids ran around in a panic, shoving each other to the ground and trampling over the unfortunate ones who couldn't get up. They hid under tables, chairs . . . anything that they thought could protect them from the bullets. No one could figure out where the shots were coming from, causing everyone's fear to heighten.  
  
Within all the chaos, a purple-haired teen quickly but calmly walked into the school building, almost getting knocked over several times on the way there. He jogged from class to class, informing any teacher he could find that someone was opening fire outside. They immediately ran out, desperately trying to usher all the panicked students inside to safety. Satisfied that he had done his job, the boy discreetly slipped outside.  
  
[Well everyone I know has got a reason  
  
To say,]  
  
By now the schoolyard was once again deserted, the teachers miraculously getting everyone inside. The gunshots had also stopped, and he made his way over toppled tables, chairs, and general debris to survey the scene. A small movement in the alleyway caught his eye, and he made his way over.  
  
When he peered around the corner, he found himself face to face with the barrel of the gun.  
  
"Don't . . ."  
  
"Goku," he said at the same time, causing the man in the shadows to freeze.  
  
[Put the past away]  
  
The weapon remained pointed at his face, but the man behind it squinted his eyes to get a good look at who was on the receiving end. Soon they widened in recognition and he slowly lowered his arm, causing the boy to sigh in relief.  
  
". . . Trunks?"  
  
[I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend  
  
You could cut ties with all the lies  
  
That you've been living in]  
  
He nodded slightly, causing strands of lavender to fall into his face. He unconsciously brushed them back and forced a wary grin on his face.  
  
"Well this is an interesting reunion . . ."  
  
"What're you doing here?!"  
  
He paused and looked at the ground, as if contemplating his answer carefully.  
  
"I haven't forgotten, you know," he said at last, keeping his eyes down. "I know how close you guys were, and how bad it was when . . . And it's exactly a year today . . ."  
  
He heard a click as Goku placed the lock back on the gun, and a rustle of fabric when he placed it in the bag. When he looked up, the older boy was looking back at him with a vague fondness. Goku shook his head, laughing bitterly.  
  
"You know me too well, Trunks. You always have . . ."  
  
[And if you do not want to see me again,  
  
I would understand  
  
I would understand]  
  
Trunks cautiously approached him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but relaxed and leaned against the wall.  
  
"I'm sorry I just left you like that," he said quietly. "I still cared for you . . . I still do, but after everything that happened . . ."  
  
"I know," the younger boy reassured him, squeezing his shoulder gently. "It's ok . . . don't beat yourself up over it."  
  
"But I . . ."  
  
"Shh," Trunks interrupted, moving his hand up and softly brushing his fingers against his cheek.  
  
[Well he's on the table and he's gone to code  
  
And I do not think anyone knows what they are doing here  
  
And you're friends have left  
  
You've been dismissed]  
  
"It was hard, yea . . . I'm not going to lie to you about that. But I lived. I moved on. I wish you could do the same . . . "  
  
[I never though it would come to this  
  
And I, I want you to know]  
  
He slid his fingers under Goku's chin and tenderly drew his face down, leaning forward to lightly brush his lips across his forehead in a ghost of a kiss.  
  
[Everyone's got to face down the demons  
  
Maybe today we can put the past away]  
  
"Gohan wouldn't want to see you like this."  
  
"I know . . ." the raven-haired young man replied, his voice barely a whisper. "I know."  
  
Trunks felt a weight on his shoulder as Goku closed his eyes and heavily leaned his head forward. He exhaled quietly and gently rested his chin amid the untamed black locks, surprisingly soft and tickling his face. A comfortable sense of familiarity overcame them, reminding them of the contentment they had once had.  
  
"I wasn't going to really hurt anyone . . ."  
  
"I know, you're too soft for that," he replied, his voice muffled from the other boy's hair, but the amusement in his voice still distinguishable.  
  
[I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend  
  
You could cut ties with all the lies  
  
That you've been living in]  
  
Suddenly the air of peacefulness was shattered as Trunks stiffened and quickly stepped back, causing Goku to become off-balance and stumble. After regaining his balance he looked over at the younger man who was staring intently at something in the distance. He frowned petulantly and rubbed his head.  
  
"Hey! What . . ."  
  
But he was cut off as a hand clamped over his mouth and a body was pressed against him, sandwiching him against the wall.  
  
"Don't make a sound," a voice hissed in his ear.  
  
He obliged, wondering what had gotten Trunks so riled up. Seconds that seemed like hours later, the pressure eased up and the Orange Star High student stepped back slightly. Before Goku could open his mouth and say anything, he found himself being dragged out of the alley by the wrist.  
  
[If you do not want to see me again  
  
I would understand  
  
I would understand  
  
I would understand...]  
  
"Trunks! What're you . . ."  
  
"Cops," he answered, not bothering to turn around. "The teachers must have called the police after they rounded everyone up. They're probably checking the other side of the school right now but they'll be back here soon."  
  
They stopped, finding themselves in front of the boy's restroom.  
  
"Stay here until they leave. I'll try to get them out of here as soon as I can."  
  
"How?!"  
  
He smirked, releasing the older man's wrist and folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"This is me we're talking about here."  
  
A faint grin crept onto Goku's face despite himself- it was true. The boy could very well smooth talk a lion into becoming a vegetarian if he felt the need to do so. It was amazing how persuasive he could be with his innocent ocean-blue eyes and charming grin.  
  
[Can you put the past away?]  
  
He turned and grasped the handle to push open the door, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned around to find himself staring into those very ocean-blue eyes.  
  
"Just let it go," Trunks advised softly, sliding his hand off.  
  
With that he flashed one last grin and turned around, walking away from the still figure still clutching the door handle.  
  
[I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,  
  
I would understand...]  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N II: * Grins * Don't worry, the whole Trunks/Goku thing will be explained later on 


	4. A Chance Encounter

Disclaimer: Nothing to say that hasn't been said before. Except maybe "FREEP!"  
  
A/N: They start getting their characters back here. Oh yea, and in case there was any confusion in the last chapter (*ahem* jess…lol) The thing with Vegeta in the bathroom was going on at the same exact time as Goku in the schoolyard (I have no idea why Vegeta didn't hear the gunshots…guess he must've been too into his grief to notice…or something) So it's not like he stood there for 30-some-odd minutes holding the gun to his head.  
  
There might be some more confusion in this chapter, but bear with me here… That being said, go! Read! Now! Yes!  
  
Note:  
  
~ Flashback ~  
  
  
  
  
  
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Vegeta whirled around in surprise when the door swung open, the gun nearly dropping from his hand. A tall guy with wild hair stumbled in, clutching a duffel bag to his chest, a pair of black sunglasses askew on his face. Suddenly he realized that he was not alone and looked toward the sinks.  
  
Their eyes met and they both froze, neither one knowing what to do. The shades slowly slipped off of Goku's face and clattered loudly on the tile floor, but he made no move to retrieve it. Vegeta stayed just as still, the gun remaining firmly by his head.  
  
Finally the awkward silence got the better of the older man and he said the first thing he could think of. He slowly released one arm from clutching the bag and tentatively lifted it, making a half-hearted wave.  
  
"…Hi."  
  
His greeting snapped Vegeta out of his stupor, and the sullen boy immediately turned around to face the mirror.  
  
"Get out," he ordered, his voice low and nearly a snarl.  
  
Goku shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze to the dirty floor.  
  
"I can't."  
  
His eyes narrowed; he had not expected any resistance from the intruder.  
  
"For the love of . . . WHY NOT?!"  
  
When there was no answer he lowered his arm and rested his hand on the edge of the sink, contemplating the situation. Yet another awkward silence descended upon them, but this time it was Vegeta who spoke first.  
  
"Fine," he said icily, calmly lifting the gun up to his head once more. "Go into one of the stalls or something. This isn't going to be pretty, and I don't want you vomiting over my carcass."  
  
The spiky-haired man still stood immobile, but this time he lifted his eyes to lie upon the slightly hunched figure in front of him.  
  
Suddenly the image before him caused Goku to become overwhelmed with flashes of memory, rushing at him like a tidal wave threatening to swallow him up whole.  
  
~ A young boy with a wide grin, looking up from his books ~  
  
~ "Goku, you're not supposed to wash your reds with your whites!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
" Well for one thing you've got pink underwear now…" ~  
  
~ The same boy coming home from school with his clothes torn and bloody ~  
  
~ Muffled sobs in the middle of the night ~  
  
~ "DON'T DO IT!" ~  
  
~ The gunshot ~  
  
~ A body hits the ground ~  
  
~ The funeral; a crowd of faceless sympathizers ~  
  
~ "It's not your fault . . . ~  
  
~ * No! They don't understand * ~  
  
~ "Don't blame yourself" ~  
  
~ * I was too late! * ~  
  
~ "No one could have stopped him . . . " ~  
  
~ * I might have! I might have, but I didn't . . . I wasn't there for him when he needed me. I killed him * ~  
  
His body became petrified, and his shallow breathing was the only sign that he was alive.  
  
Vegeta was uneasily aware of the intense gaze directed at him, and he finally turned around once more and snapped, "Are you stupid or something?! Stop looking at me!"  
  
Silence.  
  
With tremendous effort he pulled himself out of the painful flashback and willed himself to concentrate on the present. On the boy with the gun to his head.  
  
* Don't . . . * he thought desperately, but his mouth clamped shut, unwilling to open and voice his plea.  
  
Goku's refusal to reply angered Vegeta further, causing him to grip the gun so hard that his knuckles turned white.  
  
"What kind of sick bastard are you, anyway?"  
  
* Please, don't . . . *  
  
"Do you WANT to see my brains splattered on the wall?"  
  
* No . . . don't . . . please . . . *  
  
"ANSWER ME, DAMNIT!" he screamed, losing any pretense of calmness that he had once had.  
  
"please, don't . . ." Goku managed to croak out at last.  
  
Slowly the weapon was lowered as the teenager stared at him with a mixture of astonishment and rage.  
  
"You . . ." he spat out, as if the word left a disgusting taste in his mouth. "Barge in here when I'm about to blow my head in . . . REFUSE to leave . . . and now you, a complete stranger, have the audacity to tell me to 'please, don't? Who the fuck do you think you are? Huh?! Pretending that you know me enough to assume that it would be a BAD thing if I died!"  
  
"I, I didn't mean . . ."  
  
"I don't give a rat's ass about what you did or didn't mean to do! Just get the hell out of my sight!"  
  
His outburst sent small tremors through his body, and he couldn't stop his hand from trembling. The cold metal shook slightly, its surface glinting from the fluorescent lights above. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to calm down. There was the sound of a zipper and some fabric rustling, but he blocked that out of his mind as he focused on getting in control of himself again.  
  
Click.  
  
Vegeta's eyes flew open at the familiar sound, and he found him face to face with a different firearm. Goku pointed the weapon at him, a look of grim determination on his face.  
  
"Don't shoot or I'll . . ."  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
" . . . shoot?" One dark eyebrow arched delicately at the ridiculous threat.  
  
He paused, realizing the sheer absurdity of his ultimatum. There was another click, and a sigh as he lowered the gun in defeat. Suddenly the tension that had been building up between them eased up the tiniest bit, allowing both of them to breath a little easier.  
  
"Idiot," the surly boy muttered, but with less venom than before.  
  
He lowered his own arm, and rested his hand once more on the sink. After a moment of hesitation, he let go of the gun completely. 


End file.
